


In Which Zeetha Recognizes Bang First

by phoenixyfriend



Category: Girl Genius (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack Relationships, Decapitation, F/F, F/M, Family Reunions, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Happy Ending, Kiiiiiiiinda OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-15 11:13:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17527652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixyfriend/pseuds/phoenixyfriend
Summary: There were a lot of portraits of Bang in her fortress. Zeetha's memory MIGHT be a bit better than the fever suggested.





	1. This is How it Starts

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a discord convo. If we're lucky, I'll post part two.

It starts like this:

Zeetha is mostly lucid when she breaks out of the pirate base. She’s even lucid enough to ask someone to take her home, or where she was picked up. They don’t have any answers, or would rather die than answer them, so she still leaves without answers. She still finds the circus. She still finds Agatha.

But she remembers the portraits on the walls. She remembers a conversation. She knows what the Queen of Pirates looks like, and her name.

 _That_ is how it starts.

It is not how it ends.

o.o.o.o.o

Bangladesh DuPree expected many things when she came down with Gil to find the Heterodyne girl. Torturing some civilians, arguing with Gil, maybe getting to fight the chit, if she tried to get away. She couldn’t hurt the girl too much, but is still probably would have been more fun than if she came quietly. It was supposed to be an easy job.

So when a girl with green hair hopped a wagon, and pointed at her, shouting “YOU!” Bang was a little confused.

Then she decided that confusion was for suckers, and those were some mighty nice-looking swords, so maybe she’d be getting a good fight after all! A lot of people wanted to kill Bang, after all. She couldn’t waste time remembering all their faces.

“You were the pirate queen lady!” the girl shouted. All the civvies in the crowd around her started looking at Bang with distaste, which was also normal, if a little annoying. “Your face was on all the walls!”

“Bang, what did you _do?”_ Gil demanded. That obviously wasn’t fair. If Bang bothered to remember everything she’d done, she’d never get around to something new!

“Aw, you spent some time in one of the pirate hotels?” Bang crooned instead of answering Gil, pulling a knife of her own. “What, had to—”

“No, in the fortress!”

Bang felt her heart stop.

“You…” Bang could feel her heart kicking it into overdrive, maybe to make up for how it hadn’t worked at all ten seconds ago. “ _You_ were the one that killed my army?!”

The girl with the green hair looked uncertain for a moment, eyes flicking to the Wulfenbach forces around Bang and Gil, and then steeled herself to look at Bang again. “Yeah, I did!”

“DuPree, now is _not the time fo—_ ”

“What, little girl like you?” Bang said. She needed to buy some time. She didn’t like thinking, it was annoying, but she had to do it now. Gil would throw a fit if she picked a fight, but she also didn’t really _have_ to listen to him, since this was the term of her agreement. Then again, all her new crew was back on Castle Wulfenbach, and going back for them after breaking terms with Klaus would be _awkward_. “What, did they take your favorite doll?”

The girl’s face soured. “They killed everyone on my ship except for me, and then planned on _selling_ me.”

Well, yeah. That was a good reason. _Still_ , she’d killed Bang’s army. That wasn’t allowed to happen.

“And what, you’re jumping out now to finish the job? Kill off the pirate queen?” Bang asked. Screw Klaus. She needed this fight. “Or—”

She jumped forward, and the girl managed to dodge. Huh. Skills, then. She hadn’t destroyed the fortress through luck.

“— _maybe_ you’re just stupid!”

“I want to go home,” the girl said, jumping over Bang’s head and drawing her swords. She pointed one at Bang. “And _you’re_ the only one that might know anything.”

“Yeah?” Bang jumped forward, swiping. There were civilians screaming, and it wasn’t even _fun_ screams, just annoying ones. “Well, I’m not sharing.”

“I’ll—”

“Zeetha!”

The Heterodyne girl came sprinting out from behind one of the wagons.

“Agatha?” Gil asked, sounding all… breathless with hope or something sappy like that. Ugh. _Boys_.

Green-haired girl was also apparently distracted by the Heterodyne girl, and… was apparently named Zeetha? Not the worst name for a nemesis.

“You’re distracted!” Bang shouted, stabbing forward, and Zeetha managed to dodge again.

Okay.

This was good.

The fight was taking place under some weird circumstances, sure, but at least it was—

“DuPree, enough!” Gil shouted.

 _Ugh_.

“I have been waiting for this for over three years!” Bang shouted back. “You’re not going to take this fr—”

“Can it wait?!” Gil demanded. The Heterodyne chit was standing next to him. Her face was red, in the angry way, and there were guards holding her, but she wasn’t actually… fighting them?

Boring!

Bang wanted revenge, and she was going to _get it_.

She focused back in on fighting “Zeetha,” and tried to at least enjoy herself.

There were more noises that she didn’t really pay attention to. A lot of shouting, some of it from Gil, an angry cat, something something death ray zappys?

And then Gil was in her face.

He wasn’t really fighting her.

He wasn’t fighting Zeetha either.

He was just getting in the way, stealing her knives, and yelling a lot.

She didn’t really wanna kill _him_. Kinda, yeah, sometimes, but this was supposed to be special! This was supposed to be awesome! She wanted to fight the person who destroyed her army, not _Gil_ and _then_ the person who destroyed her army!

“—and finish it back on the ship!”

Bang paused. She’d ignored most of that, but… “If I fight her on Castle Wulfenbach, you’ll stop trying to get in the way?”

Gil threw his hands up in the air. There were cat scratches on his face. They were bleeding.

“Yes, fine, you can fight her later, but right _now_ I need you to come back to the Castle with me…” Gil paused. “And hand your resignation in to my father so I don’t have to be the one to tell him you’re leaving.”

Bang narrowed her eyes.

She looked back at Zeetha, who was still in a ready position, not even looking winded.

Yeah.

A good fight.

Bang pointed at Zeetha. “You’re coming with us!”

Zeetha grit her teeth, looking from Bang to Agatha to Gil, and then…

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

o.o.o.o.o

Zeetha didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.

She didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to Olga, other than to the corpse.

She didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to the rest of the circus, now that she was being marched onto a ship with Agatha (a _Heterodyne!_ A _real one!)_.

She didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to Yeti, and that one stung almost as much as Olga. The relationship hadn’t been _serious_ , but it had still been… nice.

And now she was stuck sitting in a metal cell on an airship headed for Castle Wulfenbach with a teenage girl and a cat.

“I’m sorry,” Agatha said.

“For what?” Zeetha asked, looking at her in confusion. “I’m the one that jumped out.”

“If I hadn’t run into the circus—”

Zeetha cut her off. “I’m closer to finding my way home than I have been in years.”

“Well, _I’m_ blaming you,” Krosp grumbled.

“You said your uncle knew about Skifander, right?” Zeetha asked. She’d had some time to think about it. “And… that was… that was Barry Heterodyne, right?”

Agatha opened her mouth, closed it, and nodded tightly.

“Which means that he probably went there with the rest of the main group, which means… I wasn’t really planning on asking the _Baron_ for help, but he might have been part of it,” Zeetha said. “If the Pirate Queen doesn’t know how to get me home, _he_ might.”

“He might make you work for him first,” Agatha said. “Or… something worse.”

“If he wants me to spend five years acting like a personal enforcer like the Pirate Queen? I’ll do it,” Zeetha said. “I want to get home. If that’s what it takes, three, five, ten years? I’ll do it. I’m a princess, though. For diplomatic reasons, it might be best to use sending me home for goodwill to open up trade or something.”

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this,” Krosp noted.

Zeetha shrugged. “I was raised to think this way.”

Agatha nodded, not meeting her eyes. She hugged her arms around her chest, staring at the floor.

“What’s wrong?” Zeetha asked. “Is… this about why you were running away in the first place?”

Agatha nodded.

“Can I ask what happened?”

Agatha was silent. The airship hummed around them, and Krosp hauled himself up to sit next to Agatha and glare at Zeetha.

“I was raised by Adam and Lilith Clay,” Agatha said. “You would know them as Punch and Judy.”

Oh. That was… certainly something.

“They didn’t trust the Baron, and they told me to get to Castle Heterodyne,” Agatha continued, with the careful, measured tone of someone who was struggling hard not to cry. “One of… one of his employees, she tore them apart in front of me.”

_Oh._

“And I don’t know what the Baron wants from me,” Agatha finished. “Or how kind he’s going to be about it.”

“And we don’t know what he’s going to do to me,” Krosp added.

“And I can’t do _anything_ about it,” Agatha said. She drew in a sharp breath. “I just have to… hope.”

Oh no.

“The Jägers might help,” Krosp reminded her. “But that might not work in your favor with the Baron.”

“I suppose.”

Not on her watch.

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Zeetha said. She got up, crossed the cell, and sat down on the remaining room on Agatha’s bench. “Agatha, you are the first person to give me hope that my home is real since I arrived on this continent.”

“That’s nice and all, but—”

“In this life,” Zeetha continued, loud enough that Agatha didn’t try to say more. “I am allowed to teach just one woman other than my own daughters. I’ve decided that I’m going to teach _you_.”

“You… what?”

“We will be Kolee-dok-Zumil,” Zeetha declared.

She explained what that meant. She watched a flicker of hope, or spite, or maybe just relief, enter Agatha’s eye. She heard Krosp mutter his approval.

“And,” Zeetha finished. “It means that I will help you. I will teach you, and I will protect you until you can protect yourself.”

“I thought you needed the Baron’s help to get home,” Krosp pointed out.

Zeetha grinned. “Then it’s a good thing we’ve got more things _in_ our favor than against it.”

“But—”

“Besides!” Zeetha said, kicking her legs out and crossing them. “I’m apparently his right-hand woman’s most wanted. I’m not starting from a great place anyway.”

“You’ve got a plan,” Krosp guessed.

“I do.”

The plan went out the window pretty quickly, frankly, but she _did_ have one.

o.o.o.o.o

Klaus was waiting when the airship landed again.

Gil came out first, followed by a very annoyed DuPree and a set of guards escorting a handcuffed Miss Heterodyne. The guard behind _them_ was carrying a box that showed a pair of glowing eyes and a hint of white fur.

The guards behind _him_ were escorting a young woman with green hair.

There were very few things that could have plausibly come out of that airship that would have held more of Klaus’s interest than a Heterodyne.

A Skifandrian warrior who looked excited to see him _hadn’t even factored into the equation._

He was speaking before he could stop himself. “Djorok’ku Skifandias von?!”

Her face _brightened._

“Zur baken Skiff?”

“Kar, mor baken Skiff,” Klaus said. Calm. He had to keep calm. She’d been on a ship with Gil for how many hours and her restraints weren’t any stronger than Miss Heterodyne’s. She hadn’t tried to kill Gil yet.

“What just happened?” Gil asked.

“She was right,” Miss Heterodyne told him.

“About _what?”_

<You’ve been to Skifander, right?> The young woman asks. <Agatha said that her Uncle Barry had been there, and you used to travel with them, and you know the language, and… I’ve been trying to find a way home for years now.>

Klaus eyed her. <And why did you come to Europa? How?>

<A research expedition found us, and I was sent by my mother to make contact with Europa,> she said. She shifted, looking almost nervous. <You… _do_ know a way back, right?>

<Not an easy one,> Klaus said. It seemed to be enough for her. <Your mother?>

<Queen Zantabraxus. If you visited while the Heterodyne Boys were alive, you might have met her?>

Klaus closed his eyes, and breathed.

He resisted the urge to swear very, very loudly.

<Your name?> He asked instead.

<Zeetha, daughter of Chump,> the girl declares.

Klaus tamped down that urge a little harder.

He played it as carefully as he could. <The twin.>

Zeetha’s mouth opened, and then closed it. She swallowed. <I guess you know about that.>

<I do,> Klaus said. <I take it Skifander still frowns upon twins?>

<…yes,> Zeetha confirmed. She nodded slowly. <I don’t know what happened to my brother, if that’s what you’re asking. Don’t know much about my father ei…>

She stared at him, and then slowly turned to look at Gil.

Gil, of course, stared back in confusion.

Her head snapped around to Klaus, and then Gil, and then Klaus again.

< _You’re Chump,_ > she managed to say, her voice choked with shock.

Unfortunate, that.

He’d hoped she wouldn’t realize.

Klaus signaled with one hand.

He didn’t want to kill his daughter… but perhaps having two dozen weapons trained on her at once would be enough to keep her from killing her brother.

If he really had to interfere, he’d do it himself, but a deterrent was better than a fight.

 _“What_ just happened?” Gil demanded.

Zeetha stared at Klaus.

<Does Skifander still kill its twins?> Klaus demanded. <Does your high priestess still want my son dead for the circumstances of birth?>

Understanding dawned. <So that’s why you left.>

<Answer the question.>

Zeetha closed her eyes, breathed, and stood straighter. <Mother would have never let her go through with it.>

<Assassins can slip through even Zantabraxus’s protection,> Klaus retorted.

Zeetha made a face. <I suppose.>

She looked around the room, at all the weapons trained on her, and then faced Klaus again. <I have no interest in fratricide, if that’s what you’re asking.>

Klaus watched her. <Why… why could you not go home? What prevented the expedition from taking you back?>

Zeetha pointed to a visibly impatient, irritated, and confused DuPree. <Her forces took the airship. They killed everyone except me… so… I killed all of them.>

And there was the cherry on top.

<That’s why they brought me here, for the record. To fight her later.>

Klaus pinched the bridge of his nose.

“DuPree, did this young woman destroy your fortress?” Klaus asked.

“She says she did,” DuPree said. “And she’s good enough to have been able to do it, too.”

“Do the rest of us get an explanation, now?” Gil asked. “I didn’t recognize that language at _all.”_

“You would have, under better circumstances,” Klaus said. He dropped his hand and sighed, tucking it behind his back. “The young lady with green hair is Princess Zeetha of Skifander.”

Gil looked at her, and then back at Klaus. “Okay… and?”

“She is also your twin sister.”

There were several seconds of silence so pure that he could have heard a pin drop.

Then the shouting started.

o.o.o.o.o

The room wasn’t a cell.

Agatha was pretty sure there were lots of reasons for that, but mostly that Zeetha had insisted on sharing with her, citing the fact that she’d decided they were kolee-dok-zumil, and the Baron had eventually just thrown his hands in the air and given up on separating them.

So it was a nice room, because Zeetha was his daughter, and Agatha was a Heterodyne, and he didn’t really _trust_ either of them, but he wanted them comfortable. Zeetha because, well, _daughter_ , and Agatha because the Jägerkin were probably spreading rumors about her. Three days sharing a room with Zeetha and occasionally being let out to speak with the Baron, and she’d been seen more than a few times.

At least the guards were nice. The blonde one, Mr. Higgs, seemed to be getting along well enough with Zeetha.

Zeetha, who was _also_ having meetings with the Wulfenbachs (which she was, apparently), and who had decided to start Agatha’s warrior training.

That was the other reason they were let out of the guarded room, if only with an escort.

Training.

It meant that Agatha did things like running laps and avoiding being hit by sticks, and a bunch of Jägers gave her encouragement, and on the side, Zeetha and Bang fought each other.

They weren’t even trying to kill each other anymore!

Mostly.

Agatha wasn’t entirely sure, actually, but Gil and a bunch of Jägers were all watching whenever the sparring started, and Zeetha could hold her own, so it was _probably_ not meant to end in death anymore?

She also got to keep Krosp with her, which was nice. Annoying, but nice.

Three days, all ending with a ton of muscle soreness, which she was now trying to sleep off while Zeetha cheerily told her about Skifander.

A knock on the door broke Agatha out of thoughts and Zeetha out of her story.

“I’ll get it,” Zeetha said.

It was Gil.

It was…

Agatha felt her stomach twist.

She didn’t know how to feel about that.

Zeetha leaned against the door. “Hey, little bro.”

Gil’s face spasmed. “We’re twins.”

“I’m older.”

“By about two minutes.”

“It counts.”

“It does _not_.”

Agatha tried very hard not to crack a smile at that.

“So, I’m guessing you’re not just here to chat,” Zeetha said, crossing her arms and grinning at him in a way that put those little fangs on display. “What, did my letter to the circus get a response yet?”

“No,” Gil said. “I’m, er, actually here to talk to Agatha.”

Agatha sat up slowly, blinking. “I’m… listening.”

“Or, um, well, actually I need to show you something,” Gil said. “It’s in one of the labs.”

“I’m not going anywhere without Zeetha,” Agatha said immediately.

She liked Gil. She wanted to trust Gil. She did not, in fact, actually trust Gil.

“She can come!” Gil instantly assured her. “And the cat—”

“Krosp.”

“—Krosp too, and um… Higgs?”

“Yessir.”

Agatha crossed her arms over her chest. “Fine. What’s so important that you need to show me?”

“It’s… really better if you see for yourself,” Gil said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Please?”

Agatha levered herself out of bed and pulled on her boots, glad that she was already dressed. “This better be good.”

“It is, I promise.”

He led them down to a set of supposedly secret labs, and Zeetha needled him the entire way, saving Agatha from having to contribute anything to the conversation herself.

“They’re still in very delicate condition,” Gil said. “So I can’t promise anything, but…”

He swung the door open.

There, suspended in vats of odd green liquid, were her parents.

Agatha may have started crying.

She may have also hugged Gil while she did it.


	2. This is How it Continues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing a _touch_ of romance, and a _dash_ of Valois.
> 
> And a crackship. There is definitely a crackship here.

“You’re not going to kill Gil,” Klaus said.

Zeetha shrugged. “I mean, only if he keeps being a creep towards my zumil.”

“You’re putting her over your brother.”

“I’ve known her longer.”

“By a day at most.”

Zeetha shrugged again. “Go big or go home.”

“You care for her that much? She doesn’t really need you.”

“I’ve only had Agatha for a week and a half, but if anything were to happen to her, I would—”

“She is a _Heterodyne_ and a _Mongfish,”_ Klaus emphasized. “She is dangerous just by those metrics, and could take her own revenge.”

“I’m twenty-two and you left when I was a baby,” Zeetha stated, cheery as ever. “I do what I want.”

Right. He wasn’t going to be winning this one.

Klaus pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt like he’d been doing that a lot lately.

“What exactly has Gilgamesh been doing?” He asked.

“He doesn’t know how to flirt,” Zeetha said. “And sometimes he says or does something that you can _see_ is making her uncomfortable, and half the time he doesn’t even notice, and when he _does_ , he just digs the hole deeper.”

“That’s not grounds to murder him,” Klaus told her.

“Not yet,” Zeetha agreed cheerily. “I keep elbowing him when he says something stupid. Maybe he’ll learn!”

“To flirt?”

“To stop trying to suggest she marry him.”

Klaus snorted. “For that alone, I’m tempted to agree with you.”

“They can still date,” Zeetha insisted.

“Absolutely not.”

“He’s legally an adult,” Zeetha pointed out. “You can’t keep controlling his life forever.”

The silence hung for a few seconds, tension rising until Klaus spoke.

“You remind me far too much of your mother,” Klaus sighed, pressing a palm to his forehead. He didn’t miss the conflicted look that flirted across Zeetha’s face.

“Yeah,” she said. “About that. How… how close are you to figuring out a way home?”

“I came back by mirror,” Klaus told her. He sat back in his chair, looking down at the maps spread out below him. “There are other ways, but they’re longer, harder, and more dangerous.”

“You don’t consider the mirrors dangerous?” Zeetha asked.

“It’s a single moment of danger,” Klaus said. “The other methods are less dangerous by moment, but they’re much, much longer.”

Zeetha shrugged. “Okay, then.”

“You’re not anxious to get home?”

“I have a zumil,” Zeetha said. “I have an obligation, now. And… well, I have you. You can get me home, even if it’s going to take a while. I’ve waited years already. I can wait a little longer, now that I know there _is_ a way home.”

She grinned widely and slouched in her chair, spreading her arms. “So I guess you’re stuck with me!”

“Zeetha—”

“Isn’t that great, Dad?”

“Z—”

“Huh, _Chump?”_

Klaus planted his face in his hands.

She really was far too much like her mother.

o.o.o.o.o

Gil groaned, letting his forehead thunk against the metal wall.

“Wow,” Zeetha said. “That was even worse than usual.”

“I’m not _trying_ to upset her,” Gil complained. “It just… happens.”

“So you’re like Chump, but worse.”

Gil rolled his head against the wall so he could glare sideways at his—his sister. That was still kinda weird. “What are you doing?”

“Taking notes,” Zeetha said. The little notebook had been coming everywhere with her lately. “I want to be able to tell Mom _everything_.”

Gil eyed the notebook warily. “And what exactly is ‘everything’ in this case?”

“Mostly things she’ll yell at Chump about,” Zeetha answered. She tucked the notebook away. “Or laugh at him.”

“You’re never going to drop the fact that he left, are you?” Gil asked.

“Nope,” Zeetha said. She hopped up onto the workbench closest to where he was standing, and crossed her ankles. They swung back and forth, light and carefree enough to almost make someone forget about the swords on her back and how skilled she was with them. “You were a baby, though. You didn’t even know you were related to _him_ at first.”

“Is that in the notebook?”

“It’s the very first thing,” Zeetha confirmed. “So, do you actually want some help getting with Agatha, or do you want to keep trying the science-y route?”

Gil groaned and hit his head on the wall again. “Shouldn’t you be bothering _her?”_

“Nah, she’s going to vent to Krosp first.” Zeetha sounded amused by this. “And you haven’t got your sidekick—”

“Wooster’s not my sidekick.”

“—so I’m here to make fun of you instead!”

Gil eyed her uncertainly. “Is… that supposed to be a good thing?”

“You tell me.”

o.o.o.o.o

“Ugh!” Agatha crossed her arms and slid down the wall, glaring at the other side of the hallway.

She didn’t feel like talking, and waved off everyone that tried to ask her if something was wrong. Jägers, Krosp, a few of the Lackya, even.

Von Pinn had passed by, too. The two of them had stared at each other for a few long, long moments, and then André, the Jäger with the biggest crush on her, had swept by and distracted the terrifying construct.

Agatha couldn’t really pick a fight with Von Pinn on Castle Wulfenbach. She’d tried, the first time they saw each other, entering a fugue from the rage. The Baron had broken it up and told them in no uncertain terms to stay away from each other whenever possible, or he’d be forcing them to sit down and _talk things out_ like adults.

Agatha thought that was pretty rich, coming from him, but she also wasn’t in a position to argue back.

So.

Awkwardness that was mostly dissolved by the Jägers playing interference was apparently the name of the game.

“If you keep pouting like that, your face is going to get stuck.”

Agatha tilted her head back and gave Zeetha a glare. “Shouldn’t you be comforting your brother?”

“He doesn’t need comforting. He needs someone to make fun of him without being mean about it _or_ scared of him, and since all his friends left when you did, I’m the one that gets to tease him,” Zeetha said. She plopped down next to Agatha, legs crossed and head propped up on one fist. “So! On a scale of one to ten, how mad are you at him?”

“Mad enough to wonder if I should just ignore boys and focus on science forever instead,” Agatha said. She let her head fall back against the wall, ignoring the dull bloom of pain. “It would at least mean I’d avoid becoming like my mom, right? That would be a good thing. Your dad would stop freaking out about me being too much like her.”

“You could try girls,” Zeetha suggested. Was she holding back laughter? Agatha was pretty sure she was. _“That_ might confuse Chump enough to make him stop worrying about the Lucrezia stuff.”

Agatha made a face. Girls? But that was… um…

“Never really thought about it before?” Zeetha prodded, voice soft. “Or just not into it?”

“It’s… not something that happens often,” Agatha said carefully. “Young ladies don’t… experiment in _that_ way. It’s not expected.”

Zeetha’s eyebrows crawled towards her hairline. “It’s not normal, you mean.”

Agatha shrugged, discomfort in her frame. “My parents were constructs. The less people looked at them, or me, for other strange things, the less likely they were to notice _that_.”

“Fair enough,” Zeetha allowed. “But you’re a Heterodyne now. It doesn’t matter what _young ladies_ do. If it’s not going to start a war or kill someone, you’re golden. Even if you _do_ kill someone, it kind of depends on who.”

“That’s not nearly as reassuring as you think it is,” Agatha mumbled.

“The expectations are really low,” Zeetha told her, patting her shoulder. “Nobody’s going to care if you like a girl when they’re more scared you’re going to start a war.”

“That’s _not helping_ ,” Agatha moaned. “Besides, it’s not like I even know anyone here my age except for you and Gil.”

“So meet someone!” Zeetha insisted. “You don’t need to know someone inside and out to go on a date! Just say hi, ask them out, and have dinner! If it goes badly, you can break it off, and if it goes well, have another! And if they get pushy when you don’t want it, you have me, an army of Jägers, and a very clever cat.”

Agatha laughed despite herself. “Oh please, like you won’t be distracted by your new boyfriend.”

Zeetha grinned. “What, jealous? I don’t dwell, and Yeti and I were always expecting to break it off at some point. I’m allowed to flirt with cute airmen.”

“And raise the Baron’s blood pressure by kissing the cute airmen right in front of him?” Agatha asked.

Zeetha grinned, showing off her fangs. “I’m allowed to mess with him. He knows what he did.”

Agatha giggled.

“So,” Zeetha said, getting to her feet, “Let’s take a walk.”

“Can’t I just stay here?”

“No, you need to move around a bit,” Zeetha told her. “It’ll help you get rid of some of the bad thoughts and energy. Let’s go, up and at ‘em.”

Agatha got to her feet with minimal complaining, and they headed for the nearest cafeteria.

Agatha tried very hard to ignore the guards that Zeetha pointed out were following them. She knew why they were there. She wasn’t okay with it, but it was necessary, for now.

“So, you want out?” Zeetha asked, as they got to more crowded parts of the Castle. “Seriously, tell me if you want to avoid romancing Gil so I can stop trying to help him.”

“A break, at least,” Agatha muttered. “I’m still mad at him. He saved my parents. He keeps forgetting that I have agency. He’s sometimes the only one with any authority here that _remembers_ I have agency. He’s saying a lot of stupid things, and he’s one of the most brilliant sparks I’ve ever met.”

“So what I’m hearing is that you’ve got a lot of mixed feelings,” Zeetha said.

“Argh!”

Zeetha laughed and patted her on the shoulder. “So I’ll tell him to back off, then?”

“Can’t I just date… I don’t know, her?” Agatha asked, pointing at a random woman in a passing gaggle of Wulfenbach operatives.

Zeetha looked at Agatha, and then at the woman in question. “Not much older than you, probably. Cute. Nice smile, and if she likes those weasels, she’d probably be good with other animals, including Krosp.”

“I wasn’t being serious,” Agatha protested weakly.

Zeetha looked at her, eyebrow raised. “You don’t even know her, that’s true. But I’m hearing something else in your tone.”

Agatha looked away. “She’s… well, she’s not a Wulfenbach, and that’s honestly enough for me right now?”

Zeetha laughed.

“I still wasn’t serious.”

“Too late!” Zeetha told her, grin even wider than before. “Hey! Cute girl with the weasels!”

“Zeetha, shut up!” Agatha hissed.

“GO ON A DATE WITH MY ZUMIL!”

“Zeetha!”

 The girl in question was, by this point, staring at them. She pointed at her own face. “Are you talking to me?”

“Yep!”

“Please ignore Zeetha, she’s—eep!”

Agatha squeaked as Zeetha pushed her towards the group in question, barely catching herself before she landed either on her face or on another person.

The young woman looked from Agatha to Zeetha and back. “That’s… the Baron’s secret daughter, right?”

“Mm-hm.”

“You’re… the Heterodyne girl?”

Agatha nodded, feeling her cheeks burning.

“I’m guessing this wasn’t your idea?”

Agatha didn’t meet her eyes. “I made a bit of a joke, and she decided to take it seriously.”

“Huh,” the woman said. She passed the weasel in her arms up to her shoulder and held out her now-free hand to Agatha. “I’m Ruxala. Vespiary Squad.”

“Agatha Clay. Well, Heterodyne, I suppose, but I’ve been going by Clay for most of my life,” Agatha said. They shook hands, and Ruxala’s grip was surprisingly strong. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Other than your friend throwing you at me?” Ruxala asked. She pulled her hand back, bringing it up to pat the weasel on her shoulders.

“Um… yes,” Agatha admitted. “Except for that.”

Her eyes drifted over to the weasel. Six legs, odd implants, possibly augmented eyes, a—

“You wanna hold her?” Ruxala asked. Without waiting for an answer, she swept the weasel down and deposited her in Agatha’s arms. “Careful, they can be a little touchy.”

The weasel sniffed Agatha a few times, and then squealed excitedly and reached up to nuzzle against her exposed collarbone.

“Oh, she likes you!” Ruxala said, sounding genuinely excited about that. “They’re usually pretty good judges of character. Guess you’re good with animals, huh?”

Agatha scritched carefully at the back of the weasel’s skull. “I guess so. Don’t have much experience, other than Krosp.”

“Nice,” Ruxala said. The rest of her group had already departed, probably deciding that they didn’t want to be involved in anything that had the Baron’s secret daughter and the Heterodyne at the center of it. “So… I think your friend said something about a date?”

Agatha gaped at her. “Um.”

“There are a few independent restaurants on board,” Ruxala told her, with a smile that stood out nicely against her dark skin, and a tone that said she was, if a little amused, still genuine about the offer. “Dinner? Tonight?”

Agatha gaped at her, and then shut her mouth and nodded rapidly. “Sure! Um. Seven?”

“Sure thing,” Ruxala said. She somehow scooped the weasel back without Agatha noticing, and nodded to her with that same smile. “Where’s your room?”

“Corridor 145, number 64,” Agatha said. “There’s a guard, but I’ll tell him I’m expecting you?”

“See you then!” Ruxala said, and then turned and started off down the hallway. “Dress casual!”

Agatha watched her go, brain chasing itself in circles for a bit. She turned and then immediately yelped and jumped back.

Seeing Zeetha only inches away with a grin that could politely be described as “shit-eating” was liable to surprise anyone, she figured.

“So…” Zeetha said. “Need some help getting dressed?”

o.o.o.o.o

“Are you _kidding me?”_

“No, miss,” the Smoke Knight said. She didn’t so much as flinch, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. “We’ve confirmed it. As far as the Baron is convinced, the Heterodyne Girl aboard Castle Wulfenbach is the real thing.”

Zola dug her fingers into her hair, yanking it as hard as she could without _actually_ ripping any out. “Does the Order know? Do we have any contingencies in place for this yet?”

“I don’t know, miss.”

“Then find out!” Zola yelled. “Or I’ll start making those contingency plans _myself_.”

 _And you don’t want that_ , the Smoke Knight finished on her own. “Yes, miss.”

She disappeared, and Zola took the opportunity of being alone to throw a ceramic paperweight against the door. It shattered on impact, and she stifled the enraged scream that was threatening to crawl its way out of her throat.

She had to contact Von Blitzengaard.

Someone was going to die tonight.

o.o.o.o.o

“Herr Baron?”

Klaus looked up from his papers. Tired and harried, Boris stood in the hallway.

“Is it important?” Klaus asked.

“I wouldn’t be bothering you if it wasn’t,” Boris confirmed. “Princess Anevka and Prince Tarvek of Sturmhalten are here. They say they need to speak with you urgently.”

What.

…it was still better than reading reports about how Gil was moping that the object of his affections was now dating a member of the Vespiary Squad, or thinking about how that situation had come to happen at all.

It was definitely more important than dreading the inevitable presence of Zeetha in his office, ready to chat his ear off about things he didn’t actually care about, and telling him about how she was going to report _everything_ to Zantabraxus.

“Send them in.”

Tarvek came in first. It had been fourteen years since he was aboard Castle Wulfenbach. Five years, Klaus thought, since he last saw the boy. A formal treaty signing in Prague, and the Valois branches had sent Tarvek as their witness for some reason.

Princess Anevka followed him, and Klaus didn’t show his surprise. He’d heard she’d undergone some massive accident a few years ago.

A Muse-like clank hooked up to a catafalque the size of a body with four bearers was still something of a surprise.

“Herr Baron,” Tarvek said, deliberately smooth as he bowed. “We have… been putting this off for too long.”

Klaus stood up. “Putting _what_ off?”

The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up.

Anevka stepped forward, a box in her hands. She opened it, and the contents rolled out and onto Klaus’s desk with a dull thunk and a splatter of rotting blood.

A head.

Wilhelm Aaronev Sturmvoraus’s, to be precise.

Klaus very deliberately did not react. He looked up into Anevka’s empty eyes and empty smile, and then at the wooden expression Tarvek was aiming at the bookshelf over Klaus’s shoulder.

“You have thirty seconds.”

“Lucrezia Mongfish was the Other,” Anevka said. She seemed happy, almost. It was hard to tell. “Our father has been faithfully serving her for over twenty years.”

“He has a machine that’s meant to download Lucrezia’s consciousness into another person’s head,” Tarvek continued. His voice was flat. Emotionless. Something was bottled in, whether grief or rage or fear. “He’s been sacrificing young women, sparks, to it for the past decade and a half.”

“It hasn’t worked yet,” Anevka said. “It usually kills the subject. Some are lucky enough to survive… barely.”

She snapped her fan closed and pointed it over her shoulder at the catafalque.

“Any daughter of Lucrezia’s is more likely to survive and actually absorb her consciousness than a random female spark,” Tarvek said. “With the confirmation that there _is_ one aboard Castle Wulfenbach…”

“The Other’s return couldn’t be risked,” Anevka finished. “There is an army of Geisterdamen below our city, all loyal to Lucrezia. They have quite a few Hive Engines. I suspect they are preparing to kidnap her as we speak.”

Klaus closed his eyes.

“That was more than thirty seconds,” he said.

“Ah, but it was worth it, no?” Anevka asked.

Klaus sat down heavily. He pointed at the chairs. “Take a seat.”

Both of Aaronev’s children did so.

“Boris, summon the Deep Thinkers and at least one Jäger general. My son, DuPree, and the Vespiary Squad,” he ordered. “It appears we’re going to have to handle this _very carefully_.”

“One more thing,” Tarvek said, pulling something from his jacket. It’s large enough that Klaus isn’t sure how he’d kept it hidden before. “You’re going to want to destroy this.”

“What is it?” Klaus asked.

Tarvek finally met his eyes. “A wasp. One designed to infest a Spark.”

Klaus had first thought the words decades ago. He still thought them every so often, and he had a feeling he’d be thinking them even more, soon.

_Damn Sturmhalten._

o.o.o.o.o

“I know him better!”

Seffie was only seventeen, sure, but she knew what she was doing, mostly. She got away with stealing mail from the _heir to the empire_ , so clearly she was doing _something_ right.

“We have no idea what’s going on up there,” Martellus argued. Ugh. “If there’s a Heterodyne Girl, then you _know_ Uncle Aaronev is going to be setting his sights on her, and that means that anyone that goes up is in danger!”

“I’m not a Spark!” Seffie protested. “I’m just family!”

Martellus gave her an unimpressed look.

“I’m less dangerous than the rest of you, and I’m not important for his weird obsession with Lucrezia Mongfish.” Seffie pouted. “Just send me to Castle Wulfenbach. We need someone up there, and I know Gil better than you.”

“That’s—”

“ _And_ you’d probably insult the new Heterodyne to her face,” Seffie continued, “While _I_ can make friends with her.”

Martellus opened his mouth to argue, but was interrupted.

“Xerxsephnia will be going,” Grandma said. “And that’s final.”

Seffie threw Martellus a victorious smirk.

Internally, she was squealing.

 _She was_ so _going to seduce Gil!_


	3. This is How it Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YOU get a happy ending, and YOU get a happy ending, and YOU get a happy ending! Everybody gets a happy ending!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We continue to have fun with OOC-ness, crack, _emotions_ , and the odd anachronism.

“You really have to stop winding up DuPree,” Klaus said.

“Okay,” Zeetha accepted. “I’ll just—”

“No.”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“Bedding her won’t solve the problem.”

“Spoilsport.”

Klaus pinched the bridge of his nose, probably for the hundredth time since meeting his daughter again. “You are an incredibly aggravating young woman.”

“I’ll tell Mom you said that,” Zeetha cheerfully informed him.

“There are so many other things you’re planning on telling Zantabraxus that I am far from worried about this one,” Klaus told her. He sighed, sitting back. “At least you’ve stopped trying to push your brother and Miss Heterodyne together.”

“Yeah, she decided things were too complicated to deal with dating him,” Zeetha said. “I didn’t do it for you.”

“I’m aware.”

“Hey, what about that redhead that keeps following him around?” Zeetha asked, leaning forward with a smile. “The really pale one that smashed a teacup and then blamed the maid for it?”

“Absolutely not.”

“She’s—”

“A Valois would be _even worse_ than a Mongfish,” Klaus grumbled. “That entire family is…”

“Poisonous?”

“The worst,” Klaus finished. “They are just the worst, Zeetha.”

“That sounds like a you problem.”

Klaus gave her a deadpan glare. “Do you or do you not remember the incident where the Prince and Princess of Sturmhalten delivered their _father’s head_ to me last week.”

“Yeah?”

“The entire family is like that. They may simply the worst branch, but make no mistake: all the Valois are just as liable to kill their family for titles and plots,” Klaus said. “I’ll not support a marriage that would lead to me fearing for my son and potential grandchildren’s lives more than I’ll already have to.”

Zeetha shrugged, tapping her fingers against the arm of her chair. “So they’ll need better training.”

“You truly don’t understand—”

“They took Tinka to save the princess’s life,” Zeetha interrupted. “I wasn’t there when they did, but I know how upset Moxana was about it. I already cornered the Prince to get answers.”

“You can’t just _threaten royalty aboard my—”_

“He apologized.”

Klaus stopped at that. He narrowed his eyes at his daughter. “Really.”

“Apparently his father damaged Tinka after he didn’t have to worry about Anevka anymore,” Zeetha said. _“Tarvek_ says he tried as hard as he could to save Tinka herself, after his father tried to take her apart. She was apparently undamaged before the Asshole In Charge started tinkering.”

“Please don’t publicly refer to him as that,” Klaus sighed. “And I take your point, I think.”

“I know they kinda suck,” Zeetha said. “But… nobody’s incapable of changing for the better, and being away from their father can only help, right?”

“Xerxsephnia was raised by the ‘better’ side of that family,” Klaus said. “And I’m just as worried about her.”

“Maybe worry about the ghost lady army instead.”

“Zeetha, you are very much underestimating the number of things I worry about on a daily basis.”

“So your approach is basically just ‘what’s one more?’”

“Always.”

“…you need a drink, Chump.”

“Don’t I know it.”

o.o.o.o.o

Von Pinn looked like she was about to vibrate out of her skin.

Zeetha had gone down to meet with the circus days ago, to reassure them of her safety and to tell them of the opportunity she’d found.

Tarvek had sent for Tinka to be brought to Castle Wulfenbach.

It was Moxana’s choice if she wanted to be reunited with her sister, and where, but with Tinka’s damage as deep as it was… well.

Castle Wulfenbach it was.

Tinka was arriving first, if only by a few hours. Von Pinn had insisted on accompanying Tarvek and Gil down.

Gil wasn’t sure why.

(Anevka hadn’t come. There had been shouting from her room earlier, screaming and raging and… and nobody could quite make out what she was saying, or Tarvek’s quiet pleading or occasional shouts of his own, but it had ended with Tarvek getting physically thrown from the room.)

(Anevka hadn’t spoken to anyone in two and a half days.)

(Tarvek refused to explain, and the only person he’d approached for any reason other than the necessary was Zulenna.)

(Gil didn’t want to pry, not into something so clearly sensitive, but… he had his suspicions.)

“Are you quite alright?” Tarvek asked the construct governess quietly, just loud enough for Gil to hear.

Nobody else did, probably. Gil had good hearing. He blamed his father. Tarvek probably didn’t realize he’d been heard.

“I am fine,” she answered.

It was clearly a lie, but neither boy pursued it.

The docks opened, an airship descending. Gil held back from helping with the ties as he might have in other circumstances, staying back with Von Pinn and Tarvek.

There were guards, and other people, but these two were the ones that really mattered.

(“Sturmvoraus. I hear you decided to betray your father.”)

(“Wulfenbach. Apparently. Seems there were more layers of cover story than I expected.”)

(“You’re not going to comment on—”)

(“You saw what he did to my sister. You heard what we said at the debriefing. Don’t dig any deeper, Gil. You’re not going to like what you find, and it’s not information that’s going to help you.”)

Gil didn’t like hearing that.

It was hard to keep being mad at Tarvek about childhood problems when he knew about Anevka’s fate.

It was hard to keep being annoyed about Paris.

It was less hard to be angry about the level of _sheer bullshit_ that was going on in Sturmhalten, except Tarvek _had_ betrayed his father to bring it all out into the open and prevent the Other from getting a new foothold in Europa, so it wasn’t easy either.

Gil tried to focus on the opening doors of the small airship.

One of the guards of Sturmhalten, stoic but faintly nervous, appeared after some twenty seconds.

He escorted a metal woman in a translucent pink shift, her gait traipsing unsteadily down the walkway.

Tarvek moved before Gil could.

Von Pinn was at Tinka’s side before either of them could finish their first step.

“Allow me,” she said, taking Tinka’s arms with deceptive gentleness.

“I-I-I’m f _ine_ ,” Tinka said, wobbling slightly.

Gil snuck a glance at Tarvek.

Stone.

That had to be deliberate.

(Gil remembered late nights as children, whispering their favorite stories. Tarvek had loved the Muses. He had used one to save his sister. There was no way he felt nothing.)

“Careful,” Von Pinn said. Her voice was stiff. Her walk was steady. She guided Tinka down the stairs, and came to a stop in front of Tarvek.

“Ma-aster,” Tinka said. She gave an odd twitch. “It is nice/nice/nice to _see_ you.”

“Hello, Tinka,” Tarvek whispered. He hesitated, only barely, and then reached out and pulled the strap of her shift back up over her shoulder, hand lingering on the pale metal. “We’re going to bring Moxana up. We’re going to help you.”

“Would you ca-ca-a/a/a/a/a/a/are to see _eee_ me daNce?” Tinka asked, head rolling forward, down, and up to the other side.

Gil felt vaguely sick.

“Later,” Tarvek said quietly. “You should rest.”

“She is very unwell,” Von Pinn said. There was an inscrutable look on her face, and her fingers were so very, very careful on Tinka’s shoulders. “I will care for her.”

“You don’t have to,” Tarvek said. “I’ll be the one doing her repairs. You can—”

“I insist.”

“Is/is/is Moxana-na-na-na here?” Tinka asked, listing to the side and folding heavily into Von Pinn’s side.

“She will be,” Gil said. “Soon.”

“Sit down a bit,” Tarvek said, stepping over to help guide Tinka to a chair near the wall. Von Pinn didn’t miss a step in joining them, taking a position alongside Tinka’s chair. “May I examine you?”

Tinka tilted her head, staring at him. She closed her eyes, and just as Gil was preparing to worry that something was wrong, opened them again. Just a very long blink, maybe. Hopefully.

“I, I, I consent,” she said.

Tarvek did a cursory examination. Gil didn’t specialize in such delicate machinery himself, but even he knew that they wouldn’t be getting much done without proper equipment. Still, Tarvek was careful, and spoke quietly and reassuringly to Tinka throughout, even when she got particularly confused. Von Pinn steadied Tinka when she drifted too far to one side, and Gil just tried not to feel like he was intruding on something private.

Three hours and twenty-six minutes later, the other airship came in.

Moxana was rolled out, her chair on wheels, by Zeetha. Her grin fell a little when she saw Tinka’s state, but she came closer anyway.

Moxana’s table dinged, and she reached silently and with desperation for her sister.

Von Pinn’s hands were there to help steady Tinka as she tried to rush over herself.

The sister Muses embraced, Tinka’s voice a stuttered glitch of noise, and Moxana silent save for her bell.

“I’m going to fix her,” Tarvek said, when Moxana’s too-large eyes landed on him. “I… I promise that. Your presence might help.”

Moxana nodded, and looked at Gil. He waved, a little awkward despite himself, and then she turned to look at Von Pinn.

Moxana’s head tilted sideways, eyes staring with a closed expression that Gil couldn’t even try to read. Von Pinn stood stiffly, eyeing her with a coolness Gil didn’t like the look of, much.

Moxana sat up stock straight, and her bell began ringing without pause.

“What?!” Tarvek yelped, rushing forward. His hands fluttered over the Muses, searching for the problem. “What’s wrong, what did you—what?”

He stared, cross-eyed, at the card that Moxana had shoved into his face as the ringing stopped.

Gil ambled closer, doing his best to look like he wasn’t quietly freaking out himself.

Moxana was reaching for Von Pinn.

Von Pinn, who was staring back with an unspeakable terror in her own eyes.

“Which card?” Gil asked quietly, coming to a stop near Tarvek.

“The Sentinel,” Tarevk said. “It’s… she uses the Queen’s Tarot.”

Gil made a small noise of surprise, but didn’t acknowledge how very rare it was beyond that. “And in this case, it means…”

“Traditionally?” Tarvek looked down at the card. Gil looked closer. An angel, maybe? Outstretched black wings, armor, a sword held vertically in front of her. Shadowed eyes. “Silent observance, distant authority, guards, awareness and readiness to act, preparation. Reversed was… paranoia, authoritarianism, intrusion of privacy. There’s more, but those are the core of it.”

“Sounds like my father,” Gil muttered. “But… I think it fits Von Pinn?”

Tarvek frowned, staring down at the card. “There has to be more to it. Why would Von Pinn matter in the first place?”

Gil shrugged. “She’s pretty old. Maybe she knew them at some point? Hey, stop staring at that card, you’ll explode.”

Tarvek closed his eyes and shook his head, as though to dispel the _very real threat_ of spontaneous combustion. “Fine. Mistress Von Pinn, do you—”

“I cannot say.”

Tarvek paused. “You won’t, or you quite literally are incapable of doing so?”

“The latter.”

Gil and Tarvek shared a look, and then turned to Moxana again.

She was holding one of Von Pinn’s wrists in her hand, the other arm wrapped around Tinka.

Tinka wasn’t speaking. Von Pinn apparently couldn’t. Moxana only had her cards.

Tarvek swore, jerking Gil out of his own musings.

“Mistress Von Pinn, you were… your body was built by Lucrezia, was it not?” Tarvek asked.

“It was,” she said. There was a tightness in every line of her body, that desperation that had sat in her face all day feeling all the more apparent.

“And you were found in Castle Heterodyne by the Baron,” Tarvek continued. “Some twenty years ago?”

“Yes.”

“Was there ever a Muse in Castle Heterodyne?”

“Yes.”

“Which…” Tarvek looked at the card again, and then back to Von Pinn. “Otilia?”

“Yes.”

“Is there a mind in that Muse now?”

“Yes.”

“Is it the original mind?”

“No.”

“Whose mind is it?”

“A fragment of Castle Heterodyne.”

“Lucrezia specialized in consciousness transfer,” Tarvek said, a fraction of a glance in Gil’s direction. “So… where is Otilia’s mind now?”

Von Pinn was silent.

Moxana’s bell dinged, once, twice, three times, and her grip on Von Pinn’s wrist shifted to simply holding her hand.

Three sisters reunited, not just two.

“Madame Otilia,” Tarvek said. “I will fix this, I promise. We’ll need to find your original body, and Lucrezia’s notes, but I _promise_ I’ll get you back to how you should be.”

Von Pinn stared at him, looked at Gil, and then back to Tarvek. “I will hold you to that, Little Prince of Storms.”

Tarvek opened his mouth, then shut it with a click and nodded. “I would expect no less.”

Okay, so, more weird shit that Gil wanted nothing to do with. Great!

He was going to have to deal with it anyway, but for now he was going to just not think about it.

He was…

He was going to not think about it.

Nope.

Not at all.

Not a chance.

Not a single sliver of a _what the fuck Tarvek what does she mean by that we knew you were obsessed with the Muses but if the only coherent Muse we have is addressing you as Prince of Storms after meeting the_ literal fortune teller _then what the fuck? Prince of Storms? Something to do with the Storm King? Was Tarvek planning to become the Storm King because there was_ already _so much bullshit coming out of Sturmhalten and Gil really didn’t want to deal with more of it than he already was but_ dammit _it looked like he was going to and he really wanted to shove this off on Zeetha and make her do the work but she hadn’t been raised to inherit_ this _empire and also Gil wasn’t sure he trusted her to—_

“Let’s get you to the lab!” Gil suggested, cutting off his own train of thought with what he was pretty sure was one of the most fixed grins of his life.

_What the fuck, Tarvek._

o.o.o.o.o

“Isn’t she a little… obsessive?” Agatha asked.

“Probably,” Zeetha said.

They both watched as Seffie hung off of Gil’s arm and tried to engage him in a conversation about… recent political marriages in Paris, apparently.

“I think he prefers strong Sparks, too,” Agatha added.

“Bad match?” Zeetha asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” Agatha said.

“Too bad, she’s pretty cute,” Zeetha sighed. “Fulfills all those silly requirements for a good match on the politics front, too.”

“Except the Baron kind of hates that entire family?” Agatha asked.

“Hate is a strong word…” Zeetha hedged. “Besides, that’s the best part!”

“Annoying your dad with things that are technically a good idea except for the one way they infuriate him?”

“Exactly,” Zeetha confirmed. She popped a cube of some… weird snack that Agatha hadn’t asked questions about, really, into her mouth. She chewed for a few moments, and then asked. “So, not Seffie.”

“No.”

“He’s been hanging around with the Sturmvoraus kids,” Zeetha said. “Think maybe Anevka?”

“He spends more time with Tarvek.”

“They fight a lot,” Zeetha said. “But you’re right, there might be something there. I could poke Gil about it.”

“Please don’t literally poke him.”

“Don’t worry, I will.”

o.o.o.o.o

Bangladesh DuPree was not happy.

She liked her job well enough. She liked her boss well enough. She liked her crew well enough.

She did not like that she’d run into the massive wall of “the person I want to kill most in this world is the daughter of my boss, who happens to be one of the few people alive that could kick my ass, and would also have no hesitation in doing so if I tried to kill the daughter he was only recently reunited with.”

So. She was not happy.

She got to _fight_ Zeetha pretty often. That was fun! But she wasn’t allowed to kill the girl, and that was annoying.

(And if she tried to kill Zeetha anyway, then Klaus would yell, and probably try to kill _her_ , and Gil would cry, and also probably try to kill her, and one or both of them might try to set part of their army on her, and that Heterodyne chit would probably build a clank with eighty death rays and sic the Jägers on her, and Bang didn’t really fancy the chances of her pirate army against both the Wulfenbach army _and_ the Jäger army.)

(And Bang wasn’t super cut up about maybe having to die herself, or even killing a bunch of people as she did so, and her pirate gals had _totally_ known they had a good chance of dying when they entered the profession, but it felt… like a waste. It felt _pointless_. A revenge where she gained nothing and lost everything, and hurt people that she… _ugh_ , people that she _cared_ about.)

(It didn’t help that Zeetha was _funny_ and _personable_ , and that they probably could have been _friends_ , if things hadn’t gone so stupidly.)

“Hello.”

Bang looked up from her beer at the metallic voice, catching sight of… “Oh hey, you’re that Princess from Sturmhalten, right?”

The clank woman tilted her head. “Yes.”

“Where’s the big coffin thing the pretty boys were lugging around?”

The princess blinked. “I was recently informed that I no longer need it.”

“Huh. Lucky.”

“Perhaps.”

Bang waited, and then rolled her eyes when nothing came of it. “Fine, I’ll bite. What do you want with me?”

“I need to torture something.”

It took a sentence for the words to process, and then Bang sat up straight, spine protesting the suddenness of the movement after so long at the bar. “What, _you?_ Prissy princess in the fancy dress?”

The princess tilted her head. “I am a very angry woman, Captain DuPree. I was told you would have an idea of where I could find an outlet for that anger.”

“Ha!” Bang barked out a laugh. “Right, as if Klaus just _lets_ me torture people for no reason. Ugh, he always gets so _whiny_ about it.”

“Unfortunate.”

Bang shrugged. “I’ve got a mission tomorrow afternoon, if you think you can _slum it_ with some pirate girls. Get your hands dirty.”

“I’ve had… piratical acquaintances, before,” the princess said delicately.

Bang raised an eyebrow.

“British privateers, mostly,” she added.

Bang still wasn’t sure where—oh! _Oh_. Right. That was a _thing_ for Europan pirates. Slang. “The ones that like a little Sappho.”

“…yes,” the princess said, at length. “Those.”

“I don’t know if any of my girls are like that, but you’re welcome to try your luck,” Bang said, and then grinned, as scary as she could. “Or hey, maybe you’re just as ready to get down and dirty with the rest of us when it comes to this? Think you’re as good at torturing as me?”

“We’ll find out, I suppose.”

“Confident.”

“Always.”

o.o.o.o.o

“So, I need your Sparky brain.”

Agatha looked up from where she’d been giddily examining a small group of waspeaters with Ruxala, and right into Zeetha’s face.

“Um. Hi? I’m doing something right now.”

“Yeah, but there’s been a _development,_ ” Zeetha said. “Hey, Ruxala.”

“Miss Wulfenbach.”

“Ew,” Zeetha said, settling herself into a nearby chair. “That’s not a fun name. I don’t like that. Anyway. Development.”

“What kind of development?” Agatha asked, leaning back and crossing her arms, the waspeater darting up to wrap around her shoulders. Ruxala’s arm came around her shoulders too, and Zeetha promised herself she’d tease Agatha about the redness in her cheeks later.

“We can’t get my brother together with Princess Anevka,” Zeetha said. “Because _apparently_ she likes pirates.”

“Likes pirates or likes, you know, _pirates_ ,” Ruxala asked.

Agatha looked between the two of them for a moment. “I’m missing something.”

“She’s had some adventures with British privateers,” Zeetha confirmed.

 _“Oooooh_ ,” Ruxala said. “Well, _that’s_ fun.”

“I don’t get it,” Agatha said.

“British privateers tend to be fans of Sappho,” Ruxala said. “You know…”

Agatha stared at her, wide-eyed. “… _oh._ ”

“Agatha, zumil, you are literally dating a girl right now.”

 _“It’s still new to me_ ,” Agatha whined, flopping forward onto the table and burying her face in her crossed arms.

Ruxala pursed her lips, obviously trying not to laugh, and patted her on the shoulder. “It’s okay.”

“So we need to figure out how to get my brother to date that Prince he’s been spending all his time with.”

“Or we could just leave them alone,” Agatha suggested.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

o.o.o.o.o

“Zeetha, _why.”_

“Hey Chump!”

Klaus stared at his daughter.

Quite frankly, he was glad that he had minimal people following him today.

Only Boris was here to see the completely and utter nonsense that Zeetha decided to engage in.

“Airman Higgs.”

“Er… evening, Herr Baron.”

“I’m going to give the two of you five se—thank you, Higgs. Zeetha…”

“What’s up?”

“Could you _please_ at least attempt not to engage in public displays of affection to that degree?”

“My clothes stayed on,” Zeetha said. She was grinning again, and had her hands on her hips, and stood like she was ready to take on the world.

Klaus would have appreciated that if the reason was something other than her right to make out with her boyfriend in the hallways.

“Please take it to one of your rooms,” Klaus said. “Airman Higgs? Something to say?”

“No, sir,” Higgs said, refusing to meet Klaus’s eyes. “Rather think I’d prefer not to make the situation any worse than it is, sir.”

“Well,” Boris muttered under his breath, “At least he knows the risks of dating the Baron’s daughter.”

Klaus resisted the urge to sigh. “Zeetha.”

“Chump.”

“Please refrain from… borderline sexual displays in the corridors.”

“Awww, but they’re so much fun!” Zeetha said, propping one of her elbows on Higgs’s shoulders and cocking a hip. “If I was back in Skifander—”

“Which you’re not—”

“This would be fine!”

 _“But you’re not_ ,” Klaus said. Higgs, for his part, looked a little miserable about being stuck in the middle of this. Klaus couldn’t dreg up any pity for him right now. “If nothing else, I’m rather _unenthused_ by the idea of accidentally seeing you in such situations.”

“Wh—”

 _“Because you’re my daughter_ ,” Klaus said, through clenched teeth. “And you are _fully aware of this_.”

“Yeah, but it pisses you off to see it,” Zeetha said. Her fangs glinted a little in the light. “Me dating, and an _airman_ , at that.”

Higgs looked at the ceiling like he was hoping that a merciful god would strike him down before Klaus did.

“All I ask is that you refrain from public displays,” Klaus said.

“I’ll think about it,” Zeetha said, looping her arm through Higgs’s and setting off down the hallway. “We’re getting cake!”

Klaus closed his eyes and didn’t answer, just turned and headed off towards his original destination again.

“Herr Baron?”

“He’s not good enough for her.”

“…of course, sir,” Boris said. “If I may, I don’t think she’d—”

“She wouldn’t accept such a criticism, no,” Klaus agreed. “I wasn’t in her life enough to have a say, she’s right about that, and I’m not entirely convinced that criticizing her choice to her face would do anything other than encourage her.”

“And she’s hanging around a Heterodyne.”

“Don’t remind me.”

o.o.o.o.o

“Hy heard hyu gots seesters,” André said, popping around a corner. Mistress Von Pinn stood at the heavy door to one of the fine mechanics labs, working her way through an apple as she read… something. André wasn’t sure what she was reading and while he kind of wanted to know, if only because of _who_ was doing the reading, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have cared otherwise.

Von Pinn eyed him steadily, and then nodded sharply. “I do, though it is no concern of yours.”

“Vot? Hy vas chust vundering if dey vas as pretty as hyu!”

Von Pinn laughed, dry as bone. “They are very different from my current form. However, I have promises that I will soon be in my original body. I look forward to it.”

“Original body?” André asked.

She tilted her head, considering, and… “I was not always a construct. My consciousness was originally a clank. My sisters are clanks, and I hope to return to being one.”

“Hyu iz not a fan of dis?” André asked, gesturing at her body. “Hy tink it looks goot, but hyu seem… verra happy to go back. And hyu seesters make hyu verra happy, too.”

“It is too much,” she answered. “Too many sensations. Too many conflicting ideas. My thoughts do not follow the patterns I once had, and this body requires so much _maintenance_ that it is a torture of its own.”

“Like?”

“Fuel,” she said, holding up the apple and eyeing it with distaste. “Sleep. Hygiene. All necessary. All dull, time-consuming, irritating, and uncomfortable.”

“Hoy, ken be _goot_ tings,” André said. “Mebbe hyu ken try some before hyu get hyu clank body back?”

Von Pinn looked at him, and then back at her papers. There was a smirk on her face. “Perhaps.”

“Ken be _verra_ nize.”

“Perhaps even with you,” Von Pinn said, not looking up. The smirk widened just slightly.

“Hoy, iz hyu serious?”

“Maybe,” she said. She finally looked up at him again. “If you tell me why one Mister Higgs was spotted leaving the Jägergenerals’ tea room, red-faced.”

“Ah…” André said, faltering just a little. “Vell, all of de forces in de Kestel Wulfenbach is verra interested in de guy vot Mizz Zeetha decided vas goot for de kissink, ja? Hy tink de generals vanted to meet heem, und mebbe tease him a leedle.”

“Tease a random airman?”

“Hy dunno! Hy em not an officer, hy am chust rank und file,” André said. “Mebbe hyu ken ask heem? He follows around Mizz Zeetha lots, und she talks to her brother vhen she ken.”

Von Pinn laughed again, almost as dry as before, but… nicer. Actually amused. “Very well, then. Maybe I will. I’ve work to do, still, and my sisters to guard. We may speak… later.”

“Iz dot a promeese?”

“If you’d like it to be,” Von Pinn said. She might have been planning to say more, but that was the moment at which the door slammed open, releasing a very frustrated Gilgamesh Wulfenbach.

“I’m going to kill Sturmvoraus.”

“I think not,” Von Pinn snapped immediately. “Explain what happened.”

André decided it was maybe best to leave.

o.o.o.o.o

“You’ve been dodging the question for _weeks!”_ Gil hissed. Sure, he’d tried not to think about it. Sometimes he’d even managed that, when they were fugueing together over how to fix Tinka. “You even _told me your sister was technically dead_ , and you won’t explain why the Muses think you’re the next Storm King!”

“It’s just genealogy,” Tarvek muttered. “I’m the descendant with the best claim, alright?”

“No way, you’ve spent way too much time trying to avoid this conversation, you’re not—”

“We are _not_ having this conversation out in the open!” Tarvek snapped. “If you want secrets, then maybe you should take care not to ask for them _in the middle of a castle hallway!”_

“Oh, so there _are_ secrets!

“I’m a Sturmvoraus! You’ve known since we were _eight_ what that means, and—”

“You are _not_ bringing that up again,” Gil argued. “I apologized last week! Multiple times! There were _gifts!”_

“And while I appreciate that, it’s not exactly going to change the fact that there are always secrets with me and mine!”

“So there are definitely secrets to this Storm King connection.”

“I swear I am going to _stab you_ —”

“You sound like DuPree.”

“Oh, really, why not just _insult my coat_ , you know how much I hate that… that _pirate doxy—_ ”

“The one that’s dating your sister? Yeah! Yeah, I know, you’ve made it clear _plenty_ of times but _I guess you’re just going to have to get used to her, because—”_

“Because _what!_ For pity’s sake, the Storm King thing doesn’t even _matter_ now that my father is dead, his order is being _gutted_ by the Baron, _and_ you’ve found a Heterodyne girl! Every conspiracy we had has been ripped to shreds, so why don’t you just _shove off and—”_

“And what, leave you alone again? I don’t think so! Not only do I not trust you with anyone else, I don’t trust you with _yourself_ , and I don’t trust anyone else with you! You’ve gotten almost poisoned by random assassins five times in the past three days, and if I hadn’t stopped them—”

“Who asked you to step in?! I could have handled it, you absolute _buffoon_ , you could have gotten hurt yourself and _then where would I be?”_

“Alive, dammit, which is more than you’d be if I _hadn’t_ helped, and—”

“I can take care of myself, Wulfenbach!”

_“Well, it looks like you don’t actually want to, so I’m going to do it anyway!”_

It was at this point that Gil realized he’d somehow gotten just a few inches away from Tarvek’s face. Was he looming? He didn’t _think_ he was looming.

“So what,” Tarvek said, still glaring from behind his pince nez. “You care, then? That’s it? After all this time, after getting me thrown from Castle Wulfenbach, after not even bothering to write, after not giving a _single rat’s intestine_ in Paris, after _everything_ … you suddenly cared?”

“I. Never. _Stopped.”_ Gil grumbled. He could actually feel something like a growl in his chest. He didn’t know what to make of that. “I never _stopped_ caring, Sturmvoraus. I just didn’t trust you enough to _do_ anything about it.”

“And you think you can make up for that now?” Tarvek asked. His cheeks were red. Why were they red? Was it just because he was angry? Were _Gil’s_ cheeks red?

“I can _try_ ,” Gil said instead. “If you’ll just _let_ me.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve _let_ someone take care of me,” Tarvek said. “And forgive me if I don’t expect someone who sleeps four hours a week to be any _good_ at it.”

Gil snapped. He came to a decision, and refused to think twice about it. He took Tarvek’s face in his hands, leaned in even closer, and said, “I love you. You need to know that. I may not be any _good_ at taking care of you, but I still _want_ to, and it’s because I love you.”

Tarvek’s mouth dropped open. He stared at Gil, wordless and red and possibly not breathing, and Gil started to wonder if maybe he’d made a giant mistake, maybe he’d completely messed up _everything,_ maybe he’d—

And then there were lips on his, arms around his neck, a body only slightly smaller and softer pressed against his, but still wide and solid and _warm_.

After a moment to register and process all this, Gil closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Tarvek’s torso, tilted his head and deepened it, like he’d actually experienced things instead of just reading them in books, because if this was happening, even if it was only just this once, he was going to _enjoy it._

It felt like forever before Tarvek pulled away, panting a little, lips wet and face flushed, and said, “You’re a really bad kisser.”

“So teach me, _Storm King.”_

“…sounds like a plan. Your room or mine?”

o.o.o.o.o

It took Zeetha approximately half a second to spot her brother when he walked into the cafeteria the next morning, late to breakfast as he usually was after fugues.

It took her approximately three seconds to process all the little signs that _something_ that changed between Gil and Tarvek, and that it didn’t look like there were any signs of a fugue after all.

It took her approximately half an hour of waiting for the large room to empty and carefully watching the two, Agatha pressganged into being her spying sidekick, before she managed to catch Tarvek turning red and Gil laughing in response before _swooping in to press a kiss to Tarvek’s very lips_.

She leapt to her feet, jumped the table, and landed with her fists in the air, screaming, _“YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH BOI!”_

“ZEETHA NO!” Agatha yelled.

“Zeetha, what the _hell?!”_ Gil yelped, jumping away from Tarvek and instinctively lifting a bread roll in one hand like he was about to use it as a weapon.

That was _adorable_ , but no.

“Soooooooooooooooo,” Zeetha said, sliding into the chair across from the two. She grinned wide, eyes darting from one to the other and back. “What happened last night?”

“Nothing!”

Zeetha leaned in and grinned wider. “I call bullshit, little brother.”

“You’re _two minutes older!_ ”

“Sturmvoraus, care to comment?”

“No.”

Zeetha waited, staring at Gil again, unblinking and refusing to drop her grin even a fraction of a hair’s width.

Gil broke first. “There was kissing.”

“Wulfenbach!” Tarvek snapped.

“Wow, kissing and you still aren’t even using his first name?” Zeetha asked. “Moving too fast or too slow, there?”

“I don’t… I mean…” Tarvek looked at Gil and then back at Zeetha. “We haven’t figured it out yet?”

“You should!” Zeetha told him. “I’m going to go help Agatha with some more training. You two… talk. More. And don’t distract yourself with kissing. Oh! And you might want to tell Chump before the rumor mill does.”

Gil’s face drained of blood. “Oh, my father is going to _kill_ us.”

 _“I’m_ the one that needs to be worried about that,” Tarvek grumbled. “You’re his _heir.”_

“That doesn’t mean anything!”

Zeetha grinned to herself and ambled back to the table she’d been sharing with Agatha. She gave Bang a nod as she passed the table she was occupying with Anevka, gave Ruxala and the Vespiary Squad a cheery wave across the room, and took her seat again.

“That was annoying,” Krosp grumbled. “I could have _told_ you they were kissing. They both smell like pheromones and each other!”

“I needed _real_ proof,” Zeetha insisted.

“Does this mean we’re going to stop obsessing over Gil’s love life?” Agatha asked, hopeful to the last.

“For now,” Zeetha confirmed. “That said, Seffie looks mad. I heard she’s good friends with Colette Voltaire, apparently. Anevka even thinks they might be _more_ if someone pushes ‘em. Wanna help me make it happen?”

“Not really?”

“Too late! You’re going to, if only so she doesn’t murder my future brother-in-law.”

“And why were you talking to Anevka?”

“She fights good.”

“Ah. Right. Silly me.”

Zeetha patted Agatha on the head and got to work on finishing her breakfast.

Her zumil was happy. Her brother was happy. Her father, for all his irritation, was as happy as he ever was. She’d kind of made peace with Bang and she’d gotten some new friends and she was even starting to get along with that Violetta chick that kept hiding in the rafters and trying to spy on Tarvek.

Life wasn’t perfect but… it was good enough, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyyyyyyyyyyyyy
> 
> "But you didn't address" I addressed what I wanted to address. I don't really want to do plot or anything for this fic, so the ruin of the Order's plans is left to just Tarvek's comment in this chapter, Seffie's thing last time, and Zola's little freakout. That's it. I'm not doing plot. We're leaving it at that.


End file.
